


ready to face this (dying to taste this)

by allirica



Series: we can be heroes verse [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Casual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Hook-Up, One Night Stands, POV Allison Argent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 22:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allirica/pseuds/allirica
Summary: Allison and Natasha's hook up after Stiles's birthday party in 'we can be heroes', from Allison's POV."Silently, she reaches for the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head.  She tosses it aside and doesn’t watch as it crumples on the carpet, instead holding Natasha’s gaze.  Standing in her skirt and her bra, she tips her chin slightly in challenge."





	ready to face this (dying to taste this)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Inell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/gifts).



Allison isn’t sure how she ends up in Natasha’s suite, but she’s fully aware that they’re about to tumble into bed together.

There had been flirting. A _lot_ of flirting. Natasha’s lines are impeccable, and that shouldn’t be a surprise because Natasha is also a former spy, has probably had to hone flirting into an artform for various covers, but this is…different. Because she means it. Because the heat in her green eyes is genuine, the greed that’s held back in each tease of a touch is real, and there’s no doubting for a second that Natasha wants this.

They haven’t even kissed. They’d danced, bodies pressed together, Stiles and Scott oblivious (Stiles busy dancing with Steve, Scott busy losing a drinking contest with Stark), but Lydia had caught her gaze, given a little wink of approval, and Cora had tipped her glass in Allison’s direction as she’d watched Allison leave, following Natasha away from the party.

Natasha had pressed her hand against the small of Allison’s back in the elevator. That simple, casual touch, possessive and promising all at once, had sparked a simmer of heat in Allison’s belly. It’s incredible and a little nerve wracking how one touch had affected her more intensely than some kisses have.

Natasha’s suite is just as big as Steve’s, but it has a more modern touch. The décor is generically tasteful and it feels more like a hotel room than somewhere that actually belongs to Natasha. Allison stands by the couch, tapping her fingertips against her palm. 

She’s nervous. It battles with the embers of arousal in Allison’s gut, splinters the excitement in her chest. It’s not because of who Natasha is, or how dangerous she can be, but because Allison’s not really done this properly before, at least not with a woman.

She’d come out as bisexual at sixteen. Her first time had, technically, been with Lydia, but it had been an awkward fumble more than anything. Not on Lydia’s part, but on Allison’s. It had started with talking about sex, Lydia surprised to learn about Allison’s virginity, and then they’d been discussing masturbation, and somewhere along the line kissing had started. Lydia had got off first, a vibrator between her legs, Allison watching and kissing but not really doing a whole lot to help because even back then Lydia had been in charge, had known what she wanted and needed with an unflappable lack of self-consciousness, taking control of her own orgasm. She’d used her mouth on Allison after, licking and sucking and teasing with her fingers, but Allison had been so nervous, too tense to orgasm, and eventually, she’d pulled away, embarrassed and frustrated. Lydia had been reassuring, gentle and sweet in the way she can be with the people she lets close enough to show that side of herself, and, somehow, they’d fallen right back into their easy friendship as if the whole encounter had never happened.

There’d been a couple of casual hook ups with Isaac during a brief break up with Scott in their senior year of high school. A drunken make out with Erica after prom that had been interrupted before hands could start wandering. But most of her sexual experience has been with Scott. 

If she’s honest, the break up is still fresh enough that this feels a little strange, a little callous, but she wants this. She wants Natasha’s mouth and hands on her, wants to have one night of fun, wants to have sex with a woman that isn’t an awkward or drunken fumble. She wants something casual and incredibly hot and she knows that Natasha feels the same. This isn’t serious. It’s sex, pure and simple, and it’s thrilling.

And yet she can’t quite loosen the nervous knot in her chest.

Natasha gazes at her. Allison doesn’t bother to try and school her expression; she knows Natasha will see everything she’s feeling anyway, can read her like a book with just a flick of her gaze.

“Coffee?” she offers.

Allison swallows. “You didn’t invite me in here for coffee.”

Natasha’s lips curl into a smile. She’s wearing lipstick, shiny and pink, only a couple of shades darker than the skin of her lips. “No,” she agrees. “But you look like a deer caught in the headlights. I thought I’d give you an out.”

Allison takes a breath at that. She licks at her lips, trying to chase away the sudden dryness in her mouth, and Natasha’s green eyes follow the movement. The heat in Allison’s belly simmers, stoked by the easy, unconcealed _want_ on Natasha’s face, and just like that, the nerves fizzle out, replaced by the confidence she’s gained over the years.

Silently, she reaches for the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head. She tosses it aside and doesn’t watch as it crumples on the carpet, instead holding Natasha’s gaze. Standing in her skirt and her bra, she tips her chin slightly in challenge.

Natasha slides her gaze over Allison, slow and deliberate, and the raw desire on her face sends a shiver trembling through Allison. She crosses the space between them. Allison’s wearing flat ankle boots, but even in her heels, Natasha still isn’t quite the same height as Allison. It doesn’t seem to bother her, though; she just tips her head so she can keep her gaze on Allison’s, her hands finding Allison’s hips. The brush of warm, confident fingers against Allison’s skin is intoxicating.

It’s crazy, how the barest of touches and lingering looks can cause Allison’s heart to pound so hard, beating like a hummingbird’s wings behind her ribcage. Her breath hitches at the slow drag of fingertips across her stomach, a hot ache starting between her legs, and it’s almost dizzyingly good.

“You’re dangerous,” she accuses softly.

Natasha laughs, green eyes sparkling. Her expression is soft and open as she presses closer. “So are you,” she murmurs.

Allison kisses her.

It’s a careful brush of their lips, testing the waters until Natasha’s mouth opens, turning the kiss into something deeper and dirtier. Allison catches Natasha’s bottom lip gently between her teeth, tugging just enough to be rewarded with a soft, breathless noise of encouragement.

Fingers find the waistband of Allison’s skirt. Natasha pops open the two buttons on the side and pushes at the denim until it hits the floor. Allison steps out of it, left in her bra and underwear. The suite is cool enough that goosebumps kiss her skin and she should feel exposed under Natasha’s gaze, half naked while Natasha is still fully dressed, but instead she feels strong and confident; she feels beautiful, wanted, and it’s incredibly empowering. 

She has to unzip her boots to get them off and she tosses them to the side. The carpet is soft underneath her bare feet and she digs her toes in when Natasha kisses her again, slow and slick. She’s wearing a knee length dress, dark purple satin that gleams like oil underneath the artificial light, poured over her body, and the fabric slides against Allison’s skin as their bodies press together tightly. 

It takes a while to make it to the bedroom. They keep stopping to swap kisses, each brush of their tongues and tease of their hands a promise that makes Allison feel hot all over. Natasha presses Allison into the wall near the door to the bedroom, mouthing at her neck, sucking until Allison’s knees feel weak and the throb between her legs is desperate, insistent. In return, she pins Natasha against the door the second it closes behind them, hands sliding underneath Natasha’s dress and up her thighs, skimming her thumbs across the smooth skin there as she kisses her.

Natasha reaches back, unzipping her dress. It pools at their feet and she steps out of her heels, starting to back Allison towards the bed.

Without her heels, Natasha is a few inches shorter, and it’s –

It’s _adorable_.

Natasha pauses when she sees the grin on Allison’s face, tilting her head slightly. “What?”

“Nothing. Just…you’re short. It’s cute.”

She laughs. “Did you just call me _cute_?”

“You are,” Allison replies, smiling. 

Natasha leans in to kiss her again. It’s soft and sweet, their initial rush slowing down, heat unfurling into fondness as Natasha’s hands smooth up Allison’s arms until they’re cupping her jaw, tugging her down for a better angle as their lips slide together.

Allison pulls away, stepping back until she reaches the bed. She lies down, getting settled on the sheets, and feels completely unselfconscious as she stretches out, watching Natasha drink in the sight of her. The bed dips slightly as Natasha joins her. A stray red curl falls free from where it had been pinned back so Allison reaches out, gently sliding the clip out of Natasha’s hair. Red waves fall around her face, framing Natasha’s jaw as she smiles, green eyes lit up like sunlight glancing off emeralds. 

Lust slides like syrup through Allison’s veins. Natasha’s wearing a simple black satin bra and matching underwear, the color bold against her skin, and she’s so beautiful that the sight of her actually steals Allison’s breath.

It should be weird. This is Natasha Romanoff. Allison has seen her take down groups of armed opponents, has seen how quick and brutal and deadly she can be. She’s seen Natasha stand, surrounded by the likes of Thor and the Hulk, and hold her own against a literal alien army. 

But this isn’t the spy, assassin and superhero leaning over Allison.

It isn’t the Black Widow.

It’s just Natasha.

Allison reaches out, pressing her hand against Natasha’s stomach. She feels the strength of her muscles, the softness of her skin, lets her fingertips explore the edges of a scar. There are more on Natasha’s body, mapping out the stories of different battles and different wounds, and she doesn’t flinch back from the hand on her scar. She just watches, plush lips parted slightly, and shivers when Allison’s hand drifts down, teasing at the waistband of her underwear before careful fingers edge underneath the fabric.

She feels soft red curls against her skin, feels how wet Natasha is when she dips a finger between her folds. She gasps, quiet, her muscles tensing and relaxing as she shivers. Allison smiles, leaning up to kiss her as she strokes again, slow and deliberate, just exploring, learning what makes Natasha’s hips twitch or a moan slide between her lips, what makes her tremble or gasp.

Eventually, Natasha reaches down, fingers curling around Allison’s wrist. “Tease,” she accuses, a little breathless.

Allison grins back, unrepentant. Those fingers move down, folding around Allison’s, guiding her, and _fuck_ , watching Natasha take control and show her just how to get her off is surprisingly hot. Natasha’s hips start rolling and she leans down, breathless little gasps tickling Allison’s mouth as they kiss.

Allison stops, ignoring the frustrated sound that earns her; she just smiles as she hooks her ankle around Natasha’s and flips them. She sits back, removing her hand so she can tuck her thumbs under the waistband of Natasha’s underwear and tug them down. Natasha helps, kicking them to the floor, and sits up so she can remove her bra.

Allison straddles Natasha’s hips, gazing down at her. Her nipples are hard, flushed dark pink with her arousal, and her pupils are blown wide as she looks up at Allison, an almost challenging smile on her mouth. She’s so beautiful it almost hurts to look at her. 

She lets her hands wander, caressing soft skin, exploring Natasha’s body. The brush of her thumb over a nipple is rewarded by a sharp gasp; the light tickle of her fingertips over a particular spot on Natasha’s ribs makes her laugh slightly, back arching. A kiss behind Natasha’s ear gets a full bodied shiver, Natasha’s hands flexing on Allison’s hips, and just like that, the arousal burns hotter and brighter inside Allison, throbbing between her legs.

She slides her hand back between Natasha’s thighs and this time she doesn’t tease. She slides a finger inside her, watches how Natasha tips her head back, lips parting in pleasure, and eases in a second finger, fucking her slowly. It’s not that different from touching herself, except the angle is better for her to reach deeper, and it’s breathtakingly hot to see how Natasha twitches and shivers, moaning Allison’s name. She curls her fingers slightly, angling until she finds the spot that causes Natasha’s spine to arch right off the bed and her thighs to tense, a cry wrenched from her mouth as Allison rubs. 

She moves her thumb in circles over Natasha’s clit, moaning slightly at how wet her hand is, how easily Natasha lets go and gives in to the pleasure, heedless of how she looks or how she sounds as she hurtles towards the edge. She comes with a breathless cry, clenching around Allison’s fingers, chest heaving and skin gleaming slightly with sweat.

Satisfaction fills Allison, the same kind of pleased pride at making her partner come so hard as when she’d suck Scott’s brain out through his dick or ride him into a begging, breathless wreck. 

She knows there’s a smug smile on her face when Natasha opens her eyes again, still trying to catch her breath. She laughs slightly, sliding a hand into Allison’s hair to pull her down into a kiss.

“Dangerous,” she murmurs, voice throaty, and the sound of it sends a fresh ripple of desire through Allison. 

Natasha nips at her lip, her other hand gripping one of Allison’s ass cheeks, squeezing gently. Her nails dig in just enough to pull a moan from Allison.

“I want you to ride my face.”

That’s something Allison has never done and she feels a frisson of nerves at the idea, even as excitement bursts in her belly. Natasha soothes her with gentle hands. Her fingers are slightly calloused from years of wielding weapons, a few scars on her palms where they’d been nicked by blades, and they feel so good against Allison’s skin. She teases at the spot where the pink lace of Allison’s bra meets warm flesh before reaching back to unhook it. 

Allison’s bra and panties join Natasha’s underwear on the floor. She cups one breast, leaning up to circle her tongue over Allison’s nipple, and it feels so good that Allison clenches her thighs, Natasha’s name a breathless exhale on her mouth.

Natasha helps her get situated. There’s a pillow under Natasha’s neck, helping to angle her head, and Allison can grip the headboard for balance as she sits carefully on Natasha’s face, feeling a little self-conscious. 

The first touch of Natasha’s tongue and the nerves dissolve under a wave of pleasure. She’s slow at first, teasing, exploring Allison until her hips are grinding in little circles, her fingers clenching around the headboard. Natasha’s hands smooth over Allison’s thighs before gripping her hips, controlling her, moving her in rhythm with each deep stroke of her tongue.

Allison’s riding her face, yet Natasha is the one in charge, and she’s more than happy to give up that control. She can’t do anything more than shake and moan, back arching as Natasha fucks her with her tongue before licking to her clit. 

When she comes, it feels like she’s shattering apart from the inside out, belly full of explosions, her thighs tingling and pleasure tearing through her, ruthless and beautiful all at once.

Natasha works her through it, keeps mouthing at Allison until she’s too sensitive and gives a soft sound. Allison collapses onto the bed next to her, breathless and still coming down from her orgasm. When she looks at Natasha, the redhead is grinning, lips dark and wet from Allison’s release. Gentle fingers slide into Allison’s hair, stroking slightly.

Allison doesn’t know when she falls asleep, but sunlight spears into the room when she opens her eyes again, and she’s tucked under a blanket with Natasha curled around her back. 

For a few minutes, Allison stays there, unable to help the smile that spreads across her face. She wants to snuggle in, to enjoy the lazy bliss trickling through her, but eventually, her bladder and dry mouth win out over the sensation of bare, warm skin against her own.

Natasha wakes up for the briefest moment when Allison slips out of the bed. She tenses, but when green eyes land on Allison she relaxes, yawns, and rolls over, falling back asleep. Allison smiles and finds her underwear from the floor, sliding them on. There’s a little stack of clothes on the chair by the closet and Allison grabs a black sweater from the top, tugging it on before heading into the kitchen.

She’s just finished making herself coffee when Stiles catches her.

It should be awkward, but instead, Allison can’t help but find the look on Stiles’s face hilarious. She watches as he stumbles back out of the suite, hungover and dazed, and grins to herself as she adds a little more creamer to her coffee. 

Allison will need to call Scott. She’s not going to put Stiles in a position where he’s caught between his loyalty to the both of them and, besides, she owes it to Scott to tell him herself. She doesn’t want to hurt him, but she’s not ashamed for having a night of fun. 

But for now, she leans against the counter in Natasha’s kitchen and sips her coffee, the smile on her face unwavering.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm planning to write more of shorter fics like this, exploring how Allison, Bucky and Natasha eventually end up together, if anyone is interested in reading more?
> 
> \---> I'm also allirica over on tumblr.


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